some days you wake up and you feel lucky because a little girl is grabbing your elbow and saying "mommy". and you scoop her up and snuggle- even thought it's still dark outside. some days you can't wait to jump up and have coffee and banana bread with lemon curd.
some days you see a link to a blog of a mom homeschooling her autistic son, and you are reminded by her, that we need to stop trying to "fix" our special kids, and love and appreciate them for who they are now. there it is again, now. to learn from them, and let them help us to know where they are now, and let that place be okay. to work on fixing ourselves- our expectations- our ideas of where they should be. to have serenity to accept the things we can not change. to not just have acceptance but, can i say it, thanks. joy even- in the opportunity to share in a life so different. some days start with that reminder - not by accident- but divinely orchestrated.
some days you hear, while you're drinking your coffee, that your sister did well with her ablation. that while your were asleep, across the world someone probed around in her heart, found the part that was misfiring and fixed it- that she is fine and you say a prayer of deep gratitude- and breath again.
some days we wake up and write letters to our friends who are sleeping, probably for ever. we say things that we always wanted to say, but know now is our last chance. so we write them- we speak them- we send love and prayer and traveling mercies. and we wonder about these days and hours in between lives- what they look like and sounds like and i know in my heart that Jesus, that great comforter, is holding her, that it's not void, it's love.
some days it all adds up to be a lot, like today. the beauty and the deep ache. the miracle and the quiet. and we don't know what else will come, or won't come. but we are reminded that we don't know- about the near misses- and the almost's, and if we'd been one second sooner or one minute later-ness of our days.
so i'm sitting with these things. feeling my heart here and in other places. feeling the big and the small. holding up my hands- in thanks, and request, and awe.
some days you see a link to a blog of a mom homeschooling her autistic son, and you are reminded by her, that we need to stop trying to "fix" our special kids, and love and appreciate them for who they are now. there it is again, now. to learn from them, and let them help us to know where they are now, and let that place be okay. to work on fixing ourselves- our expectations- our ideas of where they should be. to have serenity to accept the things we can not change. to not just have acceptance but, can i say it, thanks. joy even- in the opportunity to share in a life so different. some days start with that reminder - not by accident- but divinely orchestrated.
some days you hear, while you're drinking your coffee, that your sister did well with her ablation. that while your were asleep, across the world someone probed around in her heart, found the part that was misfiring and fixed it- that she is fine and you say a prayer of deep gratitude- and breath again.
some days we wake up and write letters to our friends who are sleeping, probably for ever. we say things that we always wanted to say, but know now is our last chance. so we write them- we speak them- we send love and prayer and traveling mercies. and we wonder about these days and hours in between lives- what they look like and sounds like and i know in my heart that Jesus, that great comforter, is holding her, that it's not void, it's love.
some days it all adds up to be a lot, like today. the beauty and the deep ache. the miracle and the quiet. and we don't know what else will come, or won't come. but we are reminded that we don't know- about the near misses- and the almost's, and if we'd been one second sooner or one minute later-ness of our days.
so i'm sitting with these things. feeling my heart here and in other places. feeling the big and the small. holding up my hands- in thanks, and request, and awe.
2 comments:
I am having a bit of a tough day, feeling somewhat sorry for myself. I'm so glad I took time to read your post. Once again you put out the words that helped me form my thoughts. I know you are writing about people and events different from my own, but somehow your words provide some kind of understanding into my own situations. Again, thank you for sharing with such authenticity.
sorry you've had a hard day susan- i think our hard days all have the same root- that the feelings inside are universal and uniting.
hope today is better!!
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